Chapter 2
I’m summoning myself.
His door is open, and he’s behind his desk, reading his laptop screen. He doesn’t look up when I knock. I stand there.
When his eyes finally lift, they travel up slowly, from my heels to the coffee-stained blouse. My pulse spikes.
“Close the door and lock it.”
Wetness slicks my inner thigh while I secure the door.
“Strip.”
“No foreplay first, Mr. Harrison? Just business?” I tilt my head, but my hands are already at the top button of my blouse, betraying me.
The slut in me has been running this show since lunch.
My hands are just the staff. I slip each button free, and his gaze tracks every inch of skin the fabric uncovers.
My bra opens, and my breasts spill into the cool office air, nipples already aching since 9 a.m.
I shimmy my skirt down my hips, taking my panties with it, and step out of the puddle of fabric in my heels. His eyes roam over me, and the hunger in them makes me flush.
“You wore the coffee-stained blouse all morning?” There’s amusement in his voice.
I lift my chin. “It’s not like I brought a change of clothes. And you’re going to fuck me no matter what I’m wearing.”
His lips twitch. “Bend over the desk.”
A smartass comment forms and dies in my mouth as I plant my forearms on the wood and tip my ass up. The wood is cool against my heated skin. He moves behind me, and I spread my legs wider for him. If this man wants a show, I’m giving him one.
His warm hand lands on my ass—a slow caress over one cheek, then the other, and the gentleness surprises me. His desk smells of lemon cleaner. Did he clean the desk for me? The idea that I’ve been added to his to-do list thrills me.
Then he spanks me.
The sting blooms into heat and rushes to my clit. I gasp, hips jerking forward.
“That’s all you’ve got?” The words pop out before I can stop them. Antagonizing a man who has me bent over his desk is either brave or stupid. Both turn me on.
I hear the grin in his voice. “Careful what you ask for.”
The next one is harder. The crack echoes off the office walls. I press my mouth to my arm, but a whimper escapes anyway. He spanks me three more times, alternating cheeks, until heat blooms across my ass. Then his hand slides between my legs, and he pushes his fingers inside me.
Holy hell. I moan in pleasure as he alternates between finger-fucking me and pulling out to spank me. A fuzziness steals over me with each slap and thrust. I’m trembling and panting, unable to decide whether to push back into his hand or away.
“You like being a bad girl, don’t you?” His voice is rough. “You’re soaking wet from the spanking.”
“Yes,” I gasp. There’s no point in denying it. The evidence is coating his fingers.
He spanks me once more—hard enough that I cry out—and then he kneels.
What the—
His mouth is on me, his tongue dragging through my folds in one long stroke. Sparks of pleasure race through my body, and my elbows nearly give out. I didn’t expect this. He could be doing anything to me, and he chose this.
When his tongue plunges inside me, he grips my ass with both hands and spreads me wider, groaning against my clit.
He eats me like he’s been craving this all day—tongue swirling inside me before returning to my clit and nibbling so softly I want to scream.
The scratch of his stubble sends tingles through me.
My thighs tense and my toes curl as I inch closer to my orgasm.
I’m going to come on my boss’s face. That thought alone almost finishes me.
Before I explode, he stops. I whine pathetically and shiver from the stolen orgasm.
“Not yet.” He stands, and I hear his belt buckle and zipper. “You don’t come until I’m inside you.” His hand settles on my hip. “Birth control?”
“Pill. I’m on it.”
His voice is rough. “I’m clean. Tested in the spring and no partners since.”
“Me too. Six weeks ago, all clean.”
Holy hell, I know what he’s asking. I want to feel his cum, not a fucking condom.
My pussy clenches. I haven’t fucked a man bare in years, and the thought of Bren’s cock sliding into me with nothing in the way is making me wetter than the spanking did.
Going back to my desk dripping his cum is the right kind of filthy.
I wiggle my ass. “Don’t you dare stop.”
“Good,” he groans. “Because I don’t have a condom.”
The blunt head of his cock presses against my entrance and holds there. I push back, trying to take him, but his hand on my hip pins me. My pussy flutters around the tip.
“Please.” I don’t care that I’m begging.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me.”
With one fierce thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, and I cry out, “Ohhhhh, fuck.”
God, he’s thick. He’s stretching me out, pinging every nerve ending deep inside. My mouth falls open as I give a long moan from the intense bliss.
“That’s my good slut,” he says before he starts to fuck me.
The first strokes are slow, rolling thrusts that massage the perfect spot inside me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck, it feels soooo good,” I moan, and he speeds up.
He grasps my hips and yanks me back onto him as he drills into me.
The force knocks me against his desk, and his pen cup topples and rolls off the desk.
The wet sounds of our fucking and my stifled moans fill the room.
I pray to the gods that no one is in the office next to his because I’m losing the ability to stay quiet.
He clutches my long hair in his fist and pulls my head back. I cry out as the sting from my scalp sends a bolt of twisted pleasure straight to my clit. I clench around him hard enough that he groans.
“You’re nothing but my dirty little slut,” he says between thrusts. “Who does this pussy you belong to?”
“I’m renting it,” I try to joke. His hand cracks across my ass hard enough to make me yelp. “You,” I correct, because the slut in me has zero patience. “It belongs to you.”
“And you belong to me now.”
It’s day one. Yes is supposed to be the wrong answer, but my body disagrees. I clench around him and give it to him in one long hiss. “Yessss.”
“Touch yourself,” he commands, tugging my hair again. “Make yourself come on my cock.”
I press my fingers to my clit, and the orgasm crashes through me.
My knees buckle from rapture, and my pussy contracts around him in waves.
I cry into the crook of my elbow to muffle the sound.
Lights flash behind my eyelids, and my brain switches off.
He fucks me through it, each thrust extending the pleasure until my gasps turn into sobs.
He groans, “Fuck, Lily,” and slams home one final time. His cock pulses, and he explodes.
A lusty warmth steals over me as he pumps me full of cum. He stays buried, grinding through the last spasms. When I imagine his thick cum coating my insides, I clench around him again.
When he finally pulls out, I collapse forward on the desk. The grain of the wood presses into my cheek, his scent everywhere. The world is a blurry sea of happiness. This desk might be my home now.
Bren’s touch is gentle as he helps me stand. My legs wobble, and he steadies me with a palm on my hip.
He’s silent while he dresses me, picking up each piece of clothing from the floor.
My contribution to this operation is staying upright, which is more than my legs are committed to.
He slides my panties up my legs, fingertips brushing my thighs.
He hooks my bra, and his lips skim the pulse point on my neck before he finishes buttoning my blouse.
My throat tightens. Should I thank him? No, that seems weird.
He walks me around the desk to his chair and tugs me down into his lap. I don’t know what to do with this softness. But when I lean into him and rest my head on his shoulder, he wraps his arms around me. The fit is so natural I almost forget we met today.
The fact this doesn’t scare me is what actually scares me.
Bren tucks me closer and kisses the top of my head. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I peek up at him, uncertain how to word my thoughts. “I like this part.”
The corner of his mouth quirks. “Me holding you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” I press my face against his neck so he can’t see the flush on my face. “I didn’t expect it.”
“Get used to it. I like this part too.”
Liking this part is going to be a problem. Everything about today is so damn unexpected. My new boss titty fucking me, spanking me, and then bending me over his desk wasn’t exactly on my Monday bingo card. Zero complaints to the bingo hall.
We sit like this long enough that the frantic energy drains and a quiet contentment settles in its place. If someone had told me this morning that I’d be sitting in my boss’s lap, I would have laughed in their face.
When I yawn against his neck, he chuckles. “Let’s get you back to your desk before you fall asleep on me. Blame it on a carb-heavy lunch if anyone asks.”
He gives my ass a final pat as I stand, then pulls a protein bar and a bottle of water from a desk drawer. “Eat. Drink. If you don’t, I’ll know.”
I open my mouth to ask how he’ll know, but when he raises an eyebrow, I clamp it shut.
“Yes, sir.”
I’m almost to the door when his voice stops me.
“Lily.”
I glance back. He’s leaning back in his chair, completely composed. The man who was buried inside me twenty minutes ago is gone.
“That was just one hole.”
My stomach flutters with lust and my brain scrambles.
“Come prepared for the next one tomorrow.”
A neediness builds in my core, and I have to swallow before I can answer. “Yes, sir.”
He gives me a wicked grin and turns his attention to his laptop like he didn’t just rearrange my entire nervous system.
My legs tremble the whole way back to my desk, his cum dripping out of me while I’m clutching a protein bar and a bottle of water.
I sit at my computer, the screen full of unread emails, as if this is just another ordinary Monday.
His cum is going to be inside me until I clean up tonight, and I’m in no hurry.
Tuesday, 9:47 a.m.
Bren buzzes my intercom, and I immediately know this is going to include something filthy.
“Lily, come here.”
“On my way.”
I spent the morning trying to forget about him saying, “Come prepared for the next one,” and failing. I actually brought spare panties to work in my purse. Who does that?
I knock and walk in without him telling me to. He’s behind his desk in a charcoal shirt, and the door clicks shut behind me with the sound my body has already decided means game on.
“Lock it, and come here.”
I do, and his eyes track me the whole way. When I stop in front of him, he leans back in his chair. He’s not in a hurry.
“Get on your knees.”
My pussy clenches, and I drop. I guess I know which hole he wants. I’m the slut who is about to give her boss a blowjob at 9:55 on a Tuesday morning.
He unbuckles his belt and frees his cock. Mmm, I had him between my tits and stuffed in my pussy yesterday, but the sight of his thick cock still makes my mouth water.
His thumb brushes my bottom lip. “Open.”
My lips part, and I wrap my hand around the base and lean in. I lick a slow stripe from base to tip, tasting salt and skin. His thigh tenses under my free palm. A zing of bliss runs straight to my core.
“Good girl. Take your time.”
I drag my tongue along the underside, tracing the veins I admired yesterday. Then I kiss the head and pull back, just to look. He’s gorgeous and mine for however long it takes me to make him come.
I close my lips over the head and suck, hollowing my cheeks. He shudders and groans as he threads his fingers into my hair. He’s too thick to fit comfortably, but I don’t care. I bob my head, unconcerned about the wet sounds as I suck on him.
“Such a good cocksucker.” His voice is gravel. “Just like that.”
Pleasure swirls in my core at the filthy praise, and I look up at him. He’s watching his cock disappear between my lips, and I’d smile if my mouth wasn’t full of his cock.
He groans, “Fuck,” and his hands tighten in my hair, pulling against my scalp.
I suck harder and deep throat him. My eyes water, but I don’t stop. I’m determined to give him the best blow job ever.
“Here it is. Swallow.”
I tighten my lips around him, and his hips jerk as he comes on my tongue in hot pulses. The taste is salty and sweet, with a hint of musk. I swallow every drop because that’s the assignment.
When he softens, I ease off, and smile up at him.
“You’re beautiful with my cock in your mouth.” He pulls me up and kisses me slowly. He clearly doesn’t mind tasting himself on my tongue. When he breaks the kiss, he hands me a water bottle from the drawer.
“Stay hydrated. You pleased me again.”
A warm glow envelops me, and “Yes, sir” is all I can manage.
I float back to my desk on legs that have privately resigned. At 10:17 a.m., I sit down at my computer with the taste of him in my mouth and the imprint of the carpet on my knees. The intercom will buzz again. I will answer.